Pulling Punches
by aptasi
Summary: If they were friends, this problem never would have come up. But if they were truly enemies, it would have been a lot easier to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: If they were really friends, this problem never would have come up. But if they were truly enemies, it would have been a lot easier to deal with.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

* * *

Carmen knew something was wrong.

This sort of silence among her minions was never a good sign. In fact, based on her previous experiences, the master thief knew it was utterly dire.

The last time her henchmen went quiet like this, the next major source of noise had been someone trying to put a dagger in Carmen's back. Trying being the operative word… Thank goodness for sweaty palms. Did wonders for the life expectancy when assassins accidentally dropped their weapons.

Usually, after a heist, the mood among the criminals was raucous and joking. Widely grinning, her henchmen would tease and congratulate each other, pleased to be out of jail and excited to spend their pay.

Though some nights, Carmen found the half-drunken mirth grating, by in large she knew it was a happy dynamic. So, it was her practice to simply take a few aspirin and let the party proceed. With her own judicious supervision of course.

Tonight, the mood was vastly different.

Eyes shifted and hid. No one met Carmen's gaze. Her henchmen clustered around one man, talking behind their hands, with protective mannerisms.

Carmen felt almost jealous. She knew, from experience, that she could literally cough blood and not garner such sympathetic glances.

Then again, her employees feared her. In all likelihood, Carmen was forced to concede, that was a smart choice on their part. This henchman was more a kid-brother type. Cute incompetence could be a bit endearing. Bumbling, but adorable…

And hurt, Carmen realized. She could recognize pain in his eyes. The master thief had hidden her own maladies more than often enough to see through this translucent facade.

"Where are you injured?" Carmen demanded sternly, watching the ring of supporters contract around the victim.

It was almost as if they sought to protect Carmen's lackey from her. Odd. She would never harm her employees for getting injured. Typically, she even paid their medical bills.

"I'm not hurt." He retorted, but it was a clear bald-faced lie.

"Don't be childish." Carmen admonished. "I can see you wincing." How could they think she would miss something so obvious? Did they think her blind?

The master thief watched her minions exchange nervous glances and her henchman finally lifted up his shirt.

The master thief's eyes went wide when she observed the discolored tissue. "You've broken ribs." She breathed, reaching her hand towards him before she realized it frightened him.

The man looked abashedly at the ground.

"You need to go to a hospital or at least see a medic for this." The boss ordered firmly, recovering her authoritative voice. "That looks terrible. You must be in so much pain."

Curious whispers broke out all around. Carmen felt puzzled. The man's injuries were sickening, true, but an accident was no cause for rage. They all looked as though they half expected her to draw a knife and run him through. That was very odd indeed because not only wasn't she violent, Carmen wasn't even angry.

For some reason, though, the entire group expected her to be.

That begged the question…

Raising her eyebrows, Carmen inquired carefully. "How were you hurt?"

"It's nothing." Her minion covered, far too quickly. "I just misjudged something. It was a clumsy move, boss, and it'll never happen again. I promise!"

Carmen made her voice even more gentle because somehow, it seemed, she was still frightening him. "What did you misjudge?" She prompted.

"I… " He stammered in terror.

"Tell me." The master-thief instructed, attempting to look less intimidating.

Had he been a dog, his tail would have been between his legs "A kick…" he confessed, shivering.

"What?" she snapped, far too loudly. Silently berating herself, Carmen brought her volume back to a more reasonable level. "Are you telling me you got this in a fight?"

The thief could sense the eyes of the group on her and detested feeling so out of her element. However, it would explain both his hesitation and the curiously observant group if there had been some sort of infighting among her employees.

"Who kicked you?" The boss asked sternly.

He looked hastily around at the surrounding people

Carmen repeated herself. "Who kicked you?"

"I…." He stuttered. "Uh…"

Cobalt blue eyes met his shifting ones.

"Agent Ivy!" He blurted out loudly.

Dead silence.

Carmen abruptly felt as though she was the one who'd taken the kick to the stomach. Her mouth dropped open and her chest tightened. "Ivy?" She asked, in a tone of utter shock.

The injured man looked around, as though he wanted to escape. "Yeah boss…"

Though she knew an expression of consummate confusion was dominating her face, Carmen couldn't manage to moderate her expression. She could feel the sharp stabs of her own heartbeat striking her eardrums.

"Ivy?" Carmen whispered, still incredulous, staring at the accuser.

A few beats passed as the employees worked up their nerve.

"She hits really hard boss." The thief heard one of the spectators say, softly but suddenly.

"Broke my nose last month." Another added, a bit more loudly.

Everyone abruptly began talking at once, shouting over each other.

Carmen just stared, unable to process the information.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: If they were really friends, this problem never would have come up. But if they were truly enemies, it would have been a lot easier to deal with.

Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

* * *

The handcuffs clicked closed before Ivy realized there was someone standing behind her.

Abruptly, the detective threw a back kick, feeling her foot make forceful contact with the body of her attacker.

Carmen cursed, as the air was driven from her lungs, retreating a few yards.

Ivy pulled at the cuffs, tethering her to the metal cabinet built into the wall. It moved a little, making a clanging racket, but didn't come loose.

"I see what they meant." Carmen wheezed, warily circling the detective. The thief was bent almost double, working her breath back, with her arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"Did you just swear?" Demanded Ivy incredulously, not sure if she was more shocked by the expletive or by finding Carmen on the wrong end of her kick.

"Yes, what of it?" Carmen rasped, straightening a little but keeping both hands on her side.

The agent deadpanned. "You don't cuss."

"Well, not in front of you, child." The amused thief noted.

Ivy glowered.

"You really shouldn't be working by yourself so late at night, detective. Especially in the basement… in the dark…" Carmen worried aloud.

"In the most secure government building on the West Coast." Ivy interrupted testily. "Stop being so overprotective."

Carmen smiled, and the scarce light in the building reflected off her perfect teeth. "It's not _that _secure detective."

"Yeah well, hard to argue with that logic right now." Ivy sardonically answered. "But relax. I've only got one stalker, and she's not violent."

"Be careful." The thief instructed sternly.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Carmen? I'm not going to stand here all night taking safety advice from someone who habitually throws me from moving vehicles."

The detective could see the thief tense up immediately. Carmen shoulders visibly tightened, adding sharp angles to the silhouette. "We need to talk, detective."

Instantly feeling defensive, Ivy snapped. "Sure, let's talk, but about what? I wasn't aware we had any common interests."

Carmen shrugged, though her dark eyebrows narrowed. "I wouldn't know, detective. This is professional."

"Well then." Ivy retorted briskly. "I think we may have the wrong person handcuffed."

Trying to continue the joke, Carmen suggested. "Some other time, if you're very lucky."

"You don't believe in luck?" Ivy threw her weight back again.

"So I don't…" Carmen responded in a sad voice. "Never then."

Ivy suddenly found herself wishing that she could see the thief's face. "You've got…" She jerked full force against the cabinet. "My attention… Now, talk."

"Ivy…"

The detective looked up in surprise. Carmen's voice sounded hollow, void of its customary confidence.

"Ivy…" Carmen repeated, and the almost supplicant tone threw the agent completely for a loop.

"What?" There was no pulling on the restraints this time.

"You…" The master thief hesitated. "You hit my employees too hard, detective."

Neither spoke further for several minutes. This hissing of the icy wind outside the clattering windows provided the only brash sound.

"What?" Ivy croaked. She swallowed and tried again. "What are you talking about?"

"You're using too much force to take them down, detective." Carmen apprised her.

Out of shock, the agent became acerbic. "Well I don't know how it usually works for you, but if I don't knock them down they tend to run away." She announced sarcastically.

"You're doing considerable damage, detective." Carmen implored.

"Oh, and you think you've never sent me home black and blue." Ivy snapped.

"I don't break bones!" The thief shouted.

Mouth dropping open, the agent went silent.

Uncertainty abruptly hijacked Carmen's inflection. "Do I?"

Hearing Carmen sound lost like that didn't really work in Ivy's head, so she only answered the question directly, before she could think. "I broke my wrist a few months back, chasing you."

"Oh my.." Carmen stammered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't be." Ivy retorted, feeling like something of a jerk for bringing it up. "It was a clean throw. I just messed it up and didn't fall correctly." She tried to laugh. "That's what I get for going on a case the day after my senior prom. Not enough sleep."

The shadow stared at the ground.

"So uh…" Ivy ventured. "I guess that means I did break bones huh?"

"Yes," Carmen admitted. "Quite a few, apparently."

"How come I'm just hearing about this now?" Ivy asked, trying to fill the silence.

"I didn't know." The thief responded, and Ivy saw a fidgety shift in her high-heeled feet.

"Why not?""

"Apparently," Carmen remarked tersely, folding her crimson arms. "They thought I would take your side."

Confused, Ivy questioned. "Why would they think that?"

Carmen hesitated for a long time. "I don't know how to answer that, detective."

A few moments passed and the shutters struck each other loudly.

"So uh…What happens now?" Ivy asked.

"I'm hoping… that you'll agree to pull your punches a little." Carmen clarified,

"Why would I?" Ivy asked coldly.

"Because…" The thief stammered. "Because that's the sort of person you are."

The detective was spitting furious. "That's really low, Carmen."

The thief swallowed.

"You're just trying to make it easier for them to get away." Ivy shouted, her lips curling contemptuously. "Even for you, Carmen, that's horrible."

"Ivy…"

"How dare you… how _dare_ you appeal to my compassion…" the detective choked out the last word. "Again."

Carmen simply folded her hands and looked on.

Trying to pace, Ivy pulled at her handcuffs.

"I wouldn't ask this for myself, detective."

"Bologna." The captive deadpanned.

Carmen flinched.

"Don't you play innocent!" Ivy barked. "You tried this on the Magna Carta case and I …" She threw her weight against the cabinet again. "Walked right into it like a naïve…" pull "idiot…" Clanging dissonance… "fool…"

"What?" Carmen looked completely baffled. "That had nothing to do with this."

"Didn't it?" Anger flavored every word. "You asked for my help, Carmen. And you were lying through your teeth."

"You were protecting the rule of law." Carmen derided, but her hands moved in restless half-gesture.

"I was protecting you!" Raging irritability battled with an uninvited softer tone. "From the murderous, rapacious, psychotic gangster _you_ saw fit to work with!"

Carmen shook her head.

"I mean, didn't you even read his file? It was just…" Ivy shuddered.

"I did." The thief replied steadily. "And it is appalling but I can't always be particular about my associates."

"He could have turned on you."

"Any one of my employees could attack me at any moment." Carmen answered airily. "That's normal."

"Didn't it bother you to know what he was capable of?"

Carmen sighed and hooked her thumb through her belt. "I find very little bothers me any more."

"Well." Ivy replied. "I hope it was worth it. I hope that lie brought you some joy, Carmen. Because this time, I don't believe you."

Carmen pushed her lips together in a movement that resembled a wince.

Ivy felt her stomach clench and wanted to take her statement back, but kept quiet.

When Carmen spoke again, it was in anger. "You have lousy control, detective."

"You have rotten credibility." The agent countered.

"So I do." Carmen acknowledged. "How can I convince you I'm serious?"

"You could turn yourself in." The detective suggested.

"For goodness sake, detective." Carmen begged. "Give me something I can actually do."

Ivy's mind tried to think of something that would persuade her and came to understand that there was no proof she would actually believe. Carmen's false plans were so detailed and thorough, the epitome of specificity in untruth, that Ivy couldn't have devised a test with any confidence to distinguish what was going on here.

Carmen waited.

"I'm done talking to you." Ivy said coldly. "Get out of here."

"Wait…" Carmen instructed, but Ivy yanked at the cabinet and this time it moved.

Using her foot, the detective managed to hit an alarm button. Sirens screeched.

Carmen turned and ran, failure bitter in her mouth.

Ivy watch her go, frowning.

There was never any mention of the conversation again.

But Ivy's hits got a whole lot softer.

And Carmen pretended not to notice.


End file.
